There are perhaps too many themes struggling for deeper treatment in this book: the clash between Edie’s bright intelligence and her family’s need for her on the struggling farm, the oppressive sexual relationship she falls into with a neighbour which raises issues of abuse/non-consent and sexual complicity, the vein of ‘madness’ that emerges and its treatment in the 1930s. It’s very much in the space you’ve described above, the sense of lives intersecting in ways that give rise to significant, unintended consequences. It’s an interesting fact that to this day, everyone knows the meaning of the Holocaust but far fewer have heard of the Holodomor. For Edie, who has just finished school and must soon decide what to do with her life, Connie appears to be a godsend. But this country must be able to feed itself without relying on imports,’ Connie said, ‘and that means ensuring decent honest Englishman like you, George, can continue to farm.

Enjoy the lure of the fabulous writing from the first page, until the twists and turns of the plot development keep you glued all the way to the end. Connie takes a shine to Edith, who shows her round the village, and helps the visitor any way she can. For Edie, who must soon face the unsettling pressures of adulthood, the glamorous and worldly outsider appears to be a godsend.We catch glimpses of the rhythms of the natural world, farming practices, the differences in the lives of the men and women folk, pastoral life and the air of depression and unrest that gripped the country and its citizens. While Connie may be keen to celebrate tradition, those around Edie are aware of the need for adaption and for balancing progress against tradition. I’ve never heard of Melissa Harrison and something about this tale reminded me of the writing of Elizabeth Berridge and I thought they might be contemporaries. Melissa Harrison is the author of the novels Clay and At Hawthorn Time , which was shortlisted for the Costa Novel Award and longlisted for the Bailey's Women's Prize, and one work of non-fiction, Rain , which was longlisted forthe Wainwright Prize. For those of us, like myself, who have grown up in the countryside, it is not in the least bit disappointing that the hardships and drawbacks of a life lived on the land – especially in that era – be fairly portrayed and indeed, how can one truly appreciate light unless it is in the context of shades of dark?

A quote from William Morris, at the beginning of the novel sets out how the past lives on in people and thereby shapes future events. As an evocation of place and a lost way of life, Harrison’s novel is astonishing, as potent and irresistible as a magic spell.

The autumn of 1933 is the most beautiful Edie Mather can remember, although the Great War still casts its shadow over the fields and villages around her beloved home, Wych Farm.

The novel’s epilogue is very affecting, a section in which seventy-year-old Edie contemplates her current situation – a life marked by events that took place during Constance’s visit. However she is also a successful novelist – her second novel “In the Hawthorn Time” being shortlisted for the Costa Prize and longlisted for the Women’s Prize – and I had seen this book as an outsider for the Booker longlist (in fact given the theme that the judges seemed to pick out across their books I am perhaps surprised at its exclusion). The landrail becomes Edie’s pet whom she names Edmund, and given the number of farm cats, a constant source of worry. The angle which seems to have been given the greatest (and compared to its treatment in the book disproportionate) coverage in press reviews and interviews, is an examination of 1930s rural themed fascism (my term).

She undoubtedly sees rural Britain through rose-tinted spectacles and, as time goes on, we realise that there is a political edge to her which underpins that uncritical view. The political upheaval between the wars was another thread - but again it seemed a narrative contrivance. It’s interesting, isn’t it, how we can see different things in a book depending on our own preoccupations or state of mind at time of reading? The rhythms and rituals of farming are also beautifully portrayed, augmenting the novel’s captivating sense of time and place. There’s the depression after all, and he’s one of those typical men of his time who bottles up his feelings, resulting in sudden rages.

Though they don’t appear to be affiliated with one of the big conglomerates and declare themselves to be an independent publisher, they *are* a big outfit with lots of trustees etc! Harrison describes it in lush detail that makes you feel you are there, not just the flora and fauna as she sees it, but how it changes with the seasons, or even as day turns to night. For a novel so gentle and with plots and sub-plots which build slowly, it comes as a real and sudden punch in the gut.All Among the Barley is an evocative hymn to a lost way of life, a slow-burning narrative that will draw patient readers in – particularly those with an interest in nature. Also living at the estate to help with the farm work are Edie’s brother, Frank, their paternal grandfather and two farmhands, John and Doble. She sees a “murky broth” of nationalism, “anti-Semitism, nativism, protectionism, anti-immigration sentiment, economic autarky . While George Mather shares some of Constance’s beliefs on the benefits of protection, John, the experienced farmhand, takes a more open view, sowing the seeds for future tensions to emerge. I remember so clearly an older person talking to me as if I was a person when I was a similar age to Edie, it felt quite startling at the time!